


Liquid Trust can Cure your Worries

by Grim Reaper Cultist (DeletedBecauseShy)



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eric can have a little murder. As a treat., Hurt/Comfort, I don’t know which one is hurt and which one isn’t being comforted tho..., M/M, Murder, Terminal Illnesses, Thorns of Death (Kuroshitsuji), consensual murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeletedBecauseShy/pseuds/Grim%20Reaper%20Cultist
Summary: “Because I love you.”-~-There was a slight smile on his bloody lips, one Eric hadn’t seen in days. It was painstakingly brief. A small quirk of the lips before he returned to sleep in Eric’s arms.-~-
Relationships: Alan Humphries/Eric Slingby
Kudos: 8





	Liquid Trust can Cure your Worries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nutsology](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutsology/gifts).



> Tw: Minor Character Death, Terminal Illness, Consensual Murder.

The pain wrapped around his bones like a chain. The pressure making him tear up. 

He wants to move around

He wants to talk to Eric

He wants to be able to feel again

Even the slightest movement sets off an attack, the flick of his wrist, or opening his mouth. He can barely even comprehend the pain anymore. 

He can feel Eric is still with him, even if he can’t see him. He can feel the warmth of his presence. 

The room they rented is small, it feels like the walls are collapsing around them and they’re the only ones left. 

He coughs through another attack, ignoring the pity in Eric’s eyes. 

His breathing slows down. 

The room goes quiet, the sounds of rustling clothes and footsteps above them disappearing 

Black surrounds his vision for the tenth time in an hour

He loses the fight against conscious, falling into another uneasy sleep.

Eric brings the thin blanket higher on his chest, covering the pitch-black veins swirling around his arms. 

He thinks about everything and nothing while Alan sleeps. 

How lucky they had been to narrowly escape the demon

How lucky they were to remain hidden this long

How unlucky they were that it had to end like this

Alan’s eyes flutter open only a few minutes later, dilating in fear immediately. 

“Eric give me my glasses,” he sits up quickly, bringing on another fit. “Eric please I want to see you.” 

It hurts to ignore the obviously pained man coughing up his guts on the small bed. But Eric knows he doesn’t have a choice. Alan had fallen into hysterical fits more and more often recently, he had gotten uncannily good at ignoring them. 

“Why can’t I see you! Where am I? Eric, what happened? Where are you? Eric please, I want to see you!” Tears stream down his face faster every time he screams. Either from the pain of moving or the shock, he couldn’t tell. He’s hyperventilating at this point, barely able to speak. 

“I know you’re there! Give me my glasses, Eric! I can’t see anything! I want to see you! Please, let me see you.” The last sentence is barely a murmur. A silent beg for pity that was so unlike Alan. 

He tried to move again, throwing his legs over the side of the small beg and quickly putting his weight on them. He collapsed seconds after Eric caught him; his eyes closing and not reopening. 

He lays the body back onto the bed, trying his hardest to ignore how it flinched with each movement. 

He doesn’t wake up again for multiple hours, giving Eric enough time to make a small meal before passing out on the chair besides Alan’s limp body. 

Eric wakes up before Alan to walk around the room without a purpose. 

He makes breakfast for just himself

He makes lunch for just himself

He would likely have enough time to get more food and finish up his previous chores, Alan’s body showing no sign of waking up anytime soon. 

Just as he grabs the handle, he hear it; Dry coughing that slowly seems to get wetter and wetter by the second. Immediately, he turns on his heel to rush towards the small bedroom. 

He chokes back something between a scream and a gasp at the sight. Alan had moved to sit up again after waking up, only to be caught in another coughing fit. 

The white sheets were covered with still-growing drops of blood. The same crimson red colour that covered Alan’s lips and chin. 

The heels of his shoes click against the hardwood floor with each step. He’s at Alan’s side in an instant, rubbing calming circles on the small of his back and wiping away the blood on his face. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’ll be fine Alan. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” 

Alan looks at him with an uncharacteristic begging look in his eyes. Tearing up before he even started to speak. 

“Please, just kill me. This isn’t me being hysteric or anything. I just can’t stand it anymore. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad Eric. Please.” Eric’s tears follow quickly after. Running down the length of his face to mix with the blood on the sheets. 

His free hand draws shapes into the back of Alan’s palm, his mind stuck in a silent debate. 

Alan was clearly conscious and in a good state of mind

A good enough state of mind to know what he wanted

That he wanted it all to end. 

He couldn’t kill Alan, not when he was this close. After trying for multiple weeks, he was almost done. 

Alan pushed his hand away just in time to spit more blood out onto the already-stained sheets. His eyes squinting shut from the immense pain. 

He pants out a few breaths before he can speak again; Eric can hear how fast his heart is beating. He looks up at Eric with the same pleading eyes, silent tears streaming down unnaturally pale skin. 

“I can’t. Alan, I can’t. Please, hold on. Just a little longer, I promise. I’m only asking you to hold on because I-” 

He knew how selfish it was. 

He knew he shouldn’t force Alan to stay with him. The last thing he wanted was to fill Alan with guilt over his request. “Because I love you.” 

He knew how much it must’ve hurt Alan to have been denied. At least, he thought he did. “Alright, I’ll do it. For you only. I love you too.” He reaches out his arms as far as he could towards Eric, meeting him halfway in a light embrace. 

There was a slight smile on his bloody lips, one Eric hadn’t seen in days. It was painstakingly brief. A small quirk of the lips before he returned to sleep in Eric’s arms. 

He laid Alan back down like he was made of thin glass. 

Eric was out the door immediately, Scythe in hand. 

Nine hundred

Ninety 

Nine

He was so close, so damn close it hurt. Alan wouldn’t need to know, wouldn’t need to know why he got better. 

To him, Eric hadn’t broken their promise. 

To him, it would simply be a miracle. 

He roamed the streets completely visible. His glowing eyes glancing at anyone who appeared to be alone. 

Finally, his eyes landed on a beggar in a lonely alley. Old, baggy clothing hid his form entirely. The man was slumped over, already half dead. Still, Eric couldn’t do it mercilessly as he had before. 

He sat down next to the man, offering a kind smile to the other’s dry eyes. 

“If you’ve come to kill me, please don’t pity me.” 

The words were weak and airy. Common among dying men. 

“And how do you know my plans, Sir?” The elderly man smirked and leaned further back against the wall, looking up at the sky as he spoke. 

“Boy, you can’t fool me. You’re walking with grief. You’ve looked death in the eyes before. Trust this old man to know someone like himself.” Eric chuckled slightly at the man. Not disrespectfully, the opposite. He was truly impressed by this strange man. 

“You’re not wrong. I did originally come here to kill you. But, I don’t know if I can anymore. I made a promise to someone.” 

The man clicked his tongue, interrupting Eric’s thoughts. “I don’t need to live anymore. If it’s what you have to do, please go ahead. I assure you, I’ve lived long enough and I’ve loved more than enough. My only request is that you tell me what you’re going through first. Not that I could put up a fight against a strong lad like you that is.” 

He spoke with a paternal authority like his very words were gospel. Eric couldn’t find it in himself to deny the man his request. 

“I- no. We, a...friend and me, just recently ran away from everyone we knew. He’s sick and,” Eric had to take a break. Had to stop to process what he was saying. That what he was saying really was the truth. “And he’s dying. I just want to save him, Id commit any sin for him. I-“ 

“You love him. Don’t worry, I know what it’s like. To have someone you love be taken away. I’m afraid I know all too well.” He didn’t share any more information. Just enough that his mouth was crinkled downwards at its edge. His eyes were vast and deep blue, conveying all the knowledge of the ocean and all the mystery of a shadow. 

“Yeah, I do. A lot. But, he doesn’t want to be saved. He knows what it would take to be saved and he’s too selfless to admit that he wants to keep living. I wish he knew that he is selfless enough to deserve the world by now. By doing this, I’m breaking out promise. Not to mention leaving him while he’s still weak. I just need one more. One more and it’ll all be over. Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

He didn’t know what he wanted the man to say. He didn’t even know the man's name, he shouldn’t have become so attached so quickly. 

“Of course I am. Now, hurry up. He’s waiting isn’t he?” The man’s smile was wide and bright, but not reaching his eyes. No, his eyes held a different emotion. Like the knowing look of an old mentor and the pleading hope of a soldier on a battlefield. 

“Of course Sir. Please, try to get as comfortable as possible. I’ll be quick.” The man barely moved, only sliding his hips further down onto the concrete to lean back. 

He stood back up, cloaking himself from mortal view before drawing his scythe. 

It whistled when he flung it through he air, flinging blood towards the wall. The body didn’t crumple, already as lax as it could get. His records glowed slightly in the dark alley, illuminating the grey concrete and black night sky. He watched them diligently, nothing significant caught his eye in the first half. A normal life. 

Then, the small screen went dark as the man snuck around in an alley much like where they were now. There was someone else with him, another man. 

They waited until the shadows covered them completely before they moved, embracing each other tightly like lovers back from the brink of death. It went on for many minutes, they spoke in hushed tones about anything and everything. 

Eric watched the same situation repeat dozens of times. Only ending when the other man stopped showing up. 

He searched everywhere for the man. Every restaurant, every shop, every street, every hospital. He only found him when he searched through every graveyard. Eric thought back to the last time he had seen the man, his eyes had seemed too far off, his skin to pale for the summer months. It had been a common disease. He had lost someone so important to something so common it was ignored by most. 

The next months were a blur to the unnamed man. Only excessive drinking and occasional bouts of unconsciousness. He would visit the grave often, bringing stories and gifts each time.

A year later he came for the first time in a while, holding nothing in his hands. The words were blurry to Eric but the tears weren’t. He prayed in front of the grave for hours. Spilling blood, sweat, and tears into the soil. Only a few words carried over the veil of repression that separated Eric from the scene: “Should’ve been me. I tried so... Why didn’t it work.” 

He never came back to the graveyard. Living the rest of his life like plenty of other men. Never marrying, never settling down, never making any close relationships. He had died a lonely man it seemed. One who had been given nothing for the last few decades. 

Eric never thought about the name he had learned. Fully intent with mourning an unnamed man. 

The records folded themselves neatly without any outside help. Falling at his legs without the malice of early death. 

He stored away the last soul in his scythe. 

A Thousand. 

Ten Hundred.

It seemed unreal. Too easy until he remembered everything Alan had gone through so far. 

He rushed back through the streets like a bolt of lighting. Remaining cloaked and bouncing off the walls of buildings. A being of death with a only one goal in mind. 

He kicked off his shoes quickly, throwing off his jacket in a hurry, something Alan was sure to lecture him about if he would ever notice. 

His socks left quiet thumps with each step. Sprinting towards the bedroom with inhuman speed. 

Alan was laying in bed with his eyes pointed towards the door. 

“I was starting to wonder when you’d get back. It’s impolite to leave without telling someone.” Eric knew the accusation held no anger. Partly because of the tone and partly because of the bright smile displayed on Alan’s face. The smile reached his eyes for the first time in a while. 

He took a second to re-examine the scene, from Alan’s clear voice to his pink cheeks. Eric collapsed on the floor, tears pouring from his eyes despite the broad grin he wore. “I know. I know it shouldn’t have. Alan, please understand that I just can’t lose you. I love you. Gods, I just love you so damn much. He was completely willing. I couldn’t help but tell him everything. He told me to do it for you, to get it over with and come back. I understand if your mad but I hope you understand that you deserve the world after everything you’ve been through. I-“ 

Alan cut him off abruptly with a kiss. Snaking his arms to hang around Eric’s neck and play lightly with his hair. “Of course I’m not mad. I trust your judgment completely. I’m sure he was a great man.” He kept their foreheads pressed together while he spoke, occasionally moving to ghost his lips against Eric’s between sentences. “This is weird but, tell me what he was like. I feel like I owe him some recognition. What was his name?” 

Eric laughed at the question. “He never told me. I only heard it during his record. Still, it was only twice. You know how blurry childhood memories can be after all. His mother called him Christina. I think I like his boyfriend’s idea a lot more, he would just call him Chris. I think it fits him pretty nicely. You two would’ve gotten along quite well I think.” 

Eric leaned back into the kiss, hugging Alan with all the strength he had been saving. “I love you, Alan.” He didn’t give him a chance to respond, pressing their lips together immediately after he finished speaking. 

The warmth wrapped around his body like ribbon. The sheer joy making him tear up.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh! I’m really proud of this. It’s part of an art trade with Nutsology so go check our their drawing! 
> 
> Feel free to message me on Tumblr if you have a request for me. I’m always willing! ~<3


End file.
